


Shadow Waltz

by SegaBarrett



Category: Jesus Christ Superstar - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 06:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9643655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/pseuds/SegaBarrett
Summary: They both want the same thing. Maybe.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ijemanja](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ijemanja/gifts).



> Disclaimers: I don't own JCS, and I make no money from this.
> 
> A/N: Title is from a song from the show 42nd Street.

Judas Iscariot had been hating ever since he could think; probably as long as he had been able to walk. Why wouldn’t he? The Romans had burnt to ash all that had been good in his home town, had shattered families and mowed everyone over with their rule, with their insistence on being the sole authority. 

He had hated the Romans, but the Romans had been an unstoppable monolith. Easy to hate but hard to fight something that you can’t truly grasp or see. Like trying to battle the wind or the rain. It was a fruitless struggle. 

At some point along the way, he had paused hating long enough to meet Jesus of Nazareth.

And to follow him.

Judas had always been impulsive, but it had always been to do something wrong; to punch someone in the face if they crossed him, to break things, to get himself into bar brawls and street fights.

Not to abandon everything to go follow some “teacher” around. It wasn’t like him.

His parents had thought that he had completely lost his mind when he had told them. His father had glared at him and his mother had burst into tears.

“You’re leaving us to join a cult,” his mother had said. 

He had opened his mouth to explain but had found he was unable – how could he tell her what just being around this man did to him? And he didn’t even believe the tales, no, no cult here.

So he had just turned and left without another word, and never seen them again.

Later on, he heard that was somewhat of the plan; to leave everything he had known to forge ahead with his new friend. To travel far and wide to… to… what were they trying to do, exactly?

Trying to save the world, maybe, or trying to run from it.

***

He had hated her ever since they’d picked her up along the way. She was like some kind of stray cat.

Except, an admittedly good-looking one (maybe a Persian or a Siamese cat, definitely pampered and proper with perfumes from head to toe). Judas didn’t like the fact that his mind had ever gone there; he was supposed to have his head in more important things. In planning, strategizing, in saving his friend from himself on a daily basis.

But he couldn’t help but notice. 

He couldn’t help but notice her noticing him, either; the way that she drew her fingers through curly blonde hair, the way she sat at his side and flirted. It was wrong. 

Judas couldn’t stand for it. Every time he had tried to tell Jesus, however, he had gotten a lecture. He was tired of being lectured. 

He wasn’t some face out in a crowd listening to Jesus talk and acting all starry-eyed. He knew what the situation was and wasn’t. He knew what Jesus was and wasn’t.

Not that he’d been keyed in on the plan, whatever it was. He was in the dark, and maybe Jesus was too, not that he would tell him anything.

A few times he had seen him walk off with that woman and wanted to pull what was left of his hair out.

Maybe he was telling her what his grand plan was. Maybe she had wormed her way into it like she’d done with everything.

Sometimes it made Judas want to scream. And some days he did.

***

“Judas?”

Judas whirled around and slapped a hand on his leather jacket. Who did that woman think she was, tapping him on the shoulder like she knew him?

“What do you want, woman?” he snapped at her.

“I just wanted to talk to you.” She turned away, looking like a sad kitten whose owner wouldn’t play with her. Then, in a flash, the proud and haughty look was back.

“About what?” Judas fired back.

“About him.”

“What about him?”

“You don’t need to answer every question I ask with another question. Judas… You know, you’re impossible to get to know.”

“Oh, woman, I know how you ‘get to know’ people,” Judas sniped. He whirled back around and began walking towards his tent. He’d made his jab and he was satisfied. 

“Why are you so nasty? Is it because you’re jealous?”

He whirled around again, furious. He couldn’t even have the last word in his own argument around here – why had he left home for this, again? None of them listened to him. 

Not anymore. 

“Jealous? Of you? Fat chance.”

She looked up with a wistful gaze.

“Jealous of him.”

Judas stopped in his tracks.

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t have to worry about any of this petty crap, this infighting. He’s above it.”

“I don’t envy that,” Judas said with a sigh. “I wouldn’t want… whatever is going on, on my shoulders.”

“Neither would I,” Mary agreed. “It’s got to be a lot of responsibility…”

They looked at each other, or rather made an excellent job of not looking at each other, for what felt like a very long time.

Eventually, Mary spoke up, “What is it you think I do? That you get so mad every time I’m near him? It’s like… you think we’re doing something bad.”

“Not ‘we’re’,” Judas shot back. “He’s too good for things like that. But you… people would get the wrong idea if they saw you with him.”

“Because of my reputation?” Mary asked, raising an eyebrow and stepping closer.

“Because of your profession,” Judas spat the word. “Everyone knows what you are. And people are trying to decide what he is. And as long as they don’t know, they’ll make something up. And if they see you….”

“And what if they see you?” Mary’s arm traveled to Judas’ shoulder, her hand suddenly cupping his cheek. “You’re always so angry all the time, so bitter. What would they make of that? What would they think of him then?”

“Why are you touching me?” Judas asked, yet he didn’t step away. 

“Maybe you just need to relax.”

“Who has time to relax, Mary?” Judas pulled away, then brushed off where her fingers had grazed him. He didn’t need this; didn’t have time for this.

But then something (who knew what it was, exactly, something deep within his brain urging him on ever-so-quietly) made him guide back, linger where the touch had only moments ago.

What was that about, he wondered. What was that about?

He didn’t have time for wonder for long, as the hand on his shoulder was suddenly replaced by lips against his.

And this time, he did not pull away.

He did shut his eyes and take a long moment to catch his breath. Thinking too hard right now would be a bad idea – logic had clearly been put on the backburner, and if Judas wasn’t running off of logic, what was left? 

Nothing, nothing at all but dumb, spiteful emotion. And who knew where that would lead him?

Somehow, they were pushed up against a tree. It was all far too much in the open; there was far too much daylight for this.

Yet, he wasn’t pushing her away. What was wrong with his brain? Maybe he had spent too much time away – away from everything else. Maybe following Jesus (and trying to find a foothold, a place to grasp on) had taken over his life for so long that this, whatever this was, was a welcome distraction. Or maybe he was really just as bad as the others, who he’d seen shooting her glances when they thought no one was looking.

Judas put his hand on her shoulder and nuzzled her neck. It smelled sweet.

He was just a man at the end of the day, after all. Maybe… maybe there was something to this.

A sound of rustling behind them caused Judas to jerk up his head. He moved back, as far away from her as he could manage without making it more obvious.

Someone had seen them, maybe. Why did it matter, though? 

Why did he feel guilty?

***

“Are we going to talk about it?”

“No.”

Judas didn’t even look up to see who it was. There could only be one person in this whole doomed caravan that would be asking him that question.

Jesus never asked questions, not really. He wasn’t keen on answering them, either. Especially not lately.

“Why not? Ashamed for being around someone like me?”

“No.” That was all Judas managed before he rolled back over. Sleeping in tents didn’t particularly suit him, but it was par for the course lately.

And things would only be getting worse, he knew.

“Is that all you know how to say? Or do you just like being difficult and making people want to pull their hair out?”

Judas looked up at her.

“I’m not ashamed. I’m not… anything. We don’t need to talk about it. It just… shouldn’t happen again. It’s a really bad idea.”

“For you?”

“For both of us.”

She bit her lip and shrugged.

“If you change your mind.” She glided away. 

He knew he probably would, one day. Maybe. If he could figure it out.

Maybe he would just stay in the shadows. That was the best place to be. He wouldn’t have to think about all the things he wasn’t, there. 

In the shadows, Judas would be alone.

But… maybe not always.


End file.
